


Covetous

by ThatwasJustaDream



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Community: 1-million-words, Multi, Unresolved Sexual Tension, eventual first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story in which Danny has horrible timing, and so finds out all kinds of things he didn't know about Steve. Why those things bother him so damn much...that he really doesn't want to think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Utopia

**Author's Note:**

> This is being written to the August Words of the Day on 1_million_words, and the occasional other prompt from the comm. Titles are the prompts.

Danny was absolutely sure it was Saturday that the four of them were supposed to cook out; the four of them and maybe Kamekona, too, if he didn’t have tourists to fly around. 

Danny was sure right until the moment he was walking down Steve’s lawn toward the water. Then he was equally sure he was wrong, and that he needed to listen to Kono and get a calendar going on his phone, maybe.

The proof he was a day off came in the form of a tow-headed girl – short hair, solid, curvy. Too far away to tell much else about her.

She was on Steve’s lap, way down by the water on the blanket they were sharing. They were both a bit sideways to him, laughing hard – even a little out of control, maybe, but …nothing so intimate that it seemed like he couldn’t join in on said laughter …until.

“Oh, holy…hell…” 

Danny tucked the six pack he’d brought along under one arm and started back up the grass at the first sign of that familiar rhythm – her riding Steve, her bikini top falling off one shoulder from the bouncing up and down, her laughs turning to happy shrieks and Steve’s chuckles into ‘fuck, yeah’ grunts.

Danny tried not to break into an actual run, because…well, no one was exactly worrying about him in this scenario. And there was no need to be undignified about it; they were all adults and it was an honest mistake on his part so…

“Oh…crap.”

He wished he had run when he heard it: A short, choked out but deeply pleasured shout. 

Steve coming.

‘Good luck un-hearing that, buddy,’ his crotch told his brain.

Then he made one more mistake: He turned at the top of the lawn to see if he’d made a clean getaway and he got an eyeful; Ms. Fuck of the Weekend tossing herself in the ocean as bare-assed as the day she was born. Steve was behind her a few yards, jogging out in his birthday suit, too. 

Did he not give a crap about the neighbors and their porches and their kitchen windows?

Danny was a good distance away but he swore he saw Steve look briefly back and up… and he got the hell out of there.

That was a lovely slice of Utopia Steve owned, his back yard. Apparently he wasn’t afraid to use it to its fullest potential, if Blondie here were any indication – ‘cause Danny had never seen her before, and his best guess was he’d never see her again.

And why… why, _why_ did that piss him off? Why should he give a crap, let alone allow it to wreck his afternoon, his evening, and his decent night’s sleep?

~*~

“Hey… uh.. it’s me.”

“Where are you? Chin’s here, Kono’s on the way…”

“Sorry… I’m not going to make it this time. Kind of …had something that disagreed with me yesterday and…”

“You okay? Need anything? We can bring you soup and ginger ale if you…”

“I’m good, buddy. No worries. I just don’t want to bring the party down, okay?”

“Okay, Danno. Feel better. We’ll hope to see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. See you then.”


	2. Stakeout

“So, feeling better?” 

Steve asked it from his position flat out on his belly, hanging too close to the ridge plunging down to the shipyard metal container sheds below them. 

“Your digestive system cooperating?”

“Happily, yes,” Danny handed Steve the binoculars from where he was sitting, half a yard back where the drop in front of them wasn't quite so nerve wracking. “I’m all good today.”

Maybe giving him the binoculars and the lead on watching out for their perps would change the topic?

“You do anything fun Saturday?”

“No. I so didn’t.”

“You sure? You didn’t….see a _show_? ‘Cause I might be wrong,” Steve adjusted the focus on the binoculars, eyes firmly glued on their scene. “…but I’m kind of thinking you saw a show.”

“Oh, crap,” Danny was glad Steve’s eyes were firmly on the scene and not him turning pink. “I knew you looked up. I’m sorry, I’m so emba….”

“Don’t be, it’s…fine. It wasn’t like you got the days mixed up on purpose.”

Steve was sneaking a look at him, grinning, when Danny snuck one too. 

He didn’t look the least embarrassed and thank goodness for that, for the simple way he’d cleared the air.

“So who was she?”

“Ella. A friend from one of my hiking groups. Nice girl.”

“She seemed it.”

“How could you possibly tell if she’s a…”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Sure.”

“So… you never talk about this stuff much at work but it leaves me wondering…”

“I thought we were changing the subject, Danny.”

“You…do that a lot? With friends? Acquaintances? People you barely…”

“I don’t talk about it because I don’t want to be that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The one who walks in on Monday and hip checks you, asks you if you got any and tells you all about his…adventures.”

“Oh, God, no…that would be…awful. I can’t even imagine you as that guy.”

Steve sat up and handed him the goggles. 

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a rare compliment.”

Steve’s phone rang, and he answered the call from Chin telling them their suspects were on the way. Which meant now would be a good time to really focus.

For which Danny was very grateful because…it was bothering him again, the fact that Steve had a side he hadn’t know all that much about and it involved, apparently, him doing many women. Or, Danny’s brain added upon review of past evidence, more likely many people.

The fact it bothered him? 

Danny was starting to worry about the reasons for that.


	3. Shangri-La

Club Shangri-La is a lot of things to a lot of very different people. 

Monday through Wednesday it’s purposefully PG – young visitors and locals meeting up for the awesome Mai Tais, the sunset, and then the dance floor. Fridays and Saturdays it’s the kind of strip club where ladies dance and men watch. Thursdays it’s the type of club where men dance and men watch – and then very often hook up.

“Who the hell slashes a stranger with a butcher knife fifty times?”

The club owner looked shell shocked. Danny gave him a sympathetic nod as he finished his notes.

“A psychopath, maybe. Sociopath seems….low-balling it as a diagnoses, I’d say.”

“Do you think it’s a hate crime?”

“Seems possible at first glance.”

“Oh crap,” Danny watched him do a 360 degree turn, hand on his head. “Just what we need. We’ve never had problems like this…”

“One step at a time,” He gave him a bracing squeeze on the arm. “We won’t know for sure ‘til we dig into it more, and who knows…maybe it’s not what it seems at all?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ve gotta go make some calls, is it okay if I…”

“No problem,” Danny nodded toward Steve. “We’re finishing up. Our team’s almost done with the scene, too.”

The incident in the back parking lot happened extremely early on Friday morning, and was rare enough in its viciousness that H50 had been called in almost immediately.

It had been a little nerve wracking for Danny, walking in there, wondering if the bartenders or the owner might greet him, recognize him. Happily – they didn’t. He’d kept his attendance rare, solo, and low key. 

To his own surprise, he had not kept it just to weekends but popped in on Thursdays, too – Thursdays as often as Saturdays, truth be known.

The reasons why were…complex. Moving here, with its abundance of bare beach bodies had triggered something dormant from his summers on the Jersey shore: An appreciation for the male form. Guys weren’t the first thing he’d usually order on the menu but…he always enjoyed them when they were served up for him.

And then, there was the other thing: That other thing being his boss. Who, well, was infuriating and difficult and oblivious and a smidge arrogant sometimes and…anyone who _didn’t_ want to order him up? Danny was pretty sure they were lying to themselves. 

So this club, with its many beautiful men, provided an extremely necessary service: Spank bank material that did not involve Steve McGarrett in any way whatsoever.

Danny found he was making withdrawals with increasing frequency…and sometimes, maybe, wishing he didn’t need to at all. Didn’t need to because he had the guts or the stupidity to….

Nope. His brain threw up a familiar barricade. That was forbidden territory, those thoughts.

No entry allowed.

“If you think of anything else,” Danny heard Steve’s voice now; quiet, measured. “Give me a call.”

Not us, Danny noted at the speed of light. Me. Give me a call.

“I will,” the nightclub dancer visibly waited a beat to take the card in Steve’s hand, gave it that extra half a second in order to force Steve’s eyes back toward his. “I absolutely will, I promise.”

This guy Steve was interviewing – he hadn’t seen the crime, but he was the last one out after the guests left and the cleanup crew arrived; the first unfortunate to get an eye full of the very bloody crime scene.

He looked a little worn from the ordeal, still in his jeans and V-neck cashmere shirt from the night before. He also looked…highly delectable, even though he was exhausted.

“Thanks,” Steve’s gaze was now locked on the dancer’s, scanning the man’s bright blue eyes, his strong jaw and the sandy, sunlit hair just short of long. 

Steve seemed to have forgotten to let go of the card, practically giving it a tug as the guy took it from him -- and the little grin that was teasing the corners of both their mouths made something in Danny’s stomach go all tight and unhappy.

“He sure seemed…okay with all this.” Danny attempted to keep the snide out of his voice, but even he could hear he’d only been about sixty percent successful at it.

“Actually, he wasn’t okay. He was very ….hazy at first. Out of it. You know, like people are after they’ve been in shock. I had to really spend some time talking with him, connect with him, get him back in his own head and able to think back for details.”

“Well it looks like you did an… _awesome_ job of that. You clearly had his full attention, there.”

“Thanks,” Steve gave him a shoulder slap and headed for the main office. “Let’s go talk with the owner once more before we leave?”

Danny wasn’t sure which he wanted – for Steve to have really been oblivious to the green-eyed monster that had taken control of him for a second, there, or to have recognized it and just chosen to blow right past it. Then his stomach clenched again because either way he kind of lost. Steve maybe couldn’t ...maybe didn’t want to hear it.

He knew one thing for sure; his spank bank had just been robbed; he would never again be able to picture this place without seeing Steve standing in it, eyeing that guy. And getting eyed right back.


	4. Lollapalooza

Danny tossed, kicking the sheet half off. That left it half on, and clinging to him.

It was one of those miserable nights - extremely still outside, the fan over his bed not doing much against the heat and humidity. He could barely breathe, let alone sleep. When he did sink into it, finally, he got no relief – just one lollapalooza of an R rated dream.

“Knew you’d come,” Steve’s voice, low and full of ‘hell yeah,’ followed by the sound of Steve huffing out a grunt as he got pushed against the back courtyard wall of the club. 

“I thought I’d better…” The stripper they’d been questioning earlier; he was tugging apart Steve’s button down without so much as a ‘wanna?’ “I knew I’d find you here.”

Danny’s sleeping brain filled the courtyard with what he knew you’d find most end-of-the-week nights; couples and trios laughing and smoking, making out and sucking off; taking great advantage of the dark corners and the loud music from the stage inside where the female dancers held sway. It was noisy enough, the deep thrumming bass from the speakers rolling through the alleyway, that Danny might not have heard a thing more out of the two of them.

That is, if he weren’t less than four feet away, caught in a corner with nowhere to run.

“Like it rough?” Steve’s voice was ragged already; he’d worn dress slacks in deference to the club code and they were around his shins, his new lover jacking him quick and light and attacking Steve’s neck, his shoulders with his mouth. “Mind if I take you up on that?”

Steve was urging the guy south, hands hard on his shoulders as he got swallowed down.

The strobe lights in the club really kicked in just as it happened, painting the back lot a jittery purple and green and making it all the more visible – Steve getting a hand in the guy’s hair, tugging as Steve fought to keep from fucking his mouth as hard as he very visibly wanted to and…

Danny could stand here and watch what was coming, see Steve lose his mind, watch him return the favor after or …he could bolt – could take a chance on getting caught and get the hell out of here.

Steve was close to losing it- head against the wall now, eyes closed and mouth falling open, back arched and thighs tight and… _shit,_ he was sex on two very taut, very chiseled legs.... 

Danny took off. He didn’t look back to see if he’d been spotted.

He’d come to catch him here, but he hadn’t expected he actually would.

The club was packed, and he had to thread his way through to find the front door. The lights were blazingly bright after the dark back yard, the air so heavy, the girls spinning and twirling three feet above everyone wearing not much more than body glitter and tiny g-strings.

Danny pushed and clawed his way through but the more he did the more people there were to duck around and thread through and the dizzier he felt and…it was like there was no door, just an endless, choking crowd….

“ _Jeees..u_ us…” He sat up in his own bed, gasping, lungs working hard. “ _…cripes._ ”

Danny fell back on his mattress. He found a pillow and got it under his head, hand going to his fully-at-attention dick, tugging hard and fast – all business, get this over with, fu _uuc_ kk, yeah, get the hell off…mm _mmm_ mm…. and maybe get some freaking… oh, _God oh fuck_ ….yee _eaaa_ ah….sleep.

Except, by the time he came and hit the bathroom and balled up the top sheet on his bed to toss it in his hamper….he was awake again.

He lay on his back for a while, debating, cursing the crappy motor in his ceiling fan. It wasn’t much after 11:00 p.m. The shenanigans in the back lot of the club wouldn’t even be at half sail yet – and if Steve were actually going there tonight…. 

Danny sat up to go, got half out of bed and then dropped back, burying his head under his pillow.

“Aww..this..sucks.”

He was going to have to ask him, somehow. He was going to have to know for sure, one way or the other. 

And if Steve were really there tonight? With him? Danny was never going to think about him that way ever …ever again.


	5. Sockdolager

“Did my driving piss you off? When we went after that suspect?”

“No,” Danny kept working his keyboard; back straight, feet on the floor, eyes on the screen. “It didn’t. You were actually…restrained. It would be nice if maybe you’d take that up as a practice, restraint behind the wheel. Maybe you’ll live to collect your pension. Hell, maybe I’ll live to….”

“Is it because I forgot to bring my wallet with me at lunch?”

Steve asked it from his kicked-back slump in the chair he’d pulled up to Danny’s desk, turned perpendicular to where Danny was sitting and working so hard to ignore him. And not only was he staring, Steve was moping, hands gripping the legs on the chair below the seat, looking like either a suspect being questioned or a child brooding in detention. 

It was pushing Danny’s blood pressure up. 

“No. It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get me back for it – lunch is on you tomorrow.”

He’d woken up as determined to let the whole thing go, as he’d been to get answers the night before. 

“Well I know I didn’t pee in your Cheerios,” Steve said it mock-offhandedly. “I would remember if I’d peed in your Cheerios, so… it has to be something el…”

“For the tenth time, Steven, I’m not angry. I… I’ve got the Mondays. You know? Even when one works at the most wonderful place with truly fantastic co-workers…one still wakes up on the occasional Monday in deep misery and wanting to crawl back under the covers. Haven’t you been there?”

“Not really, no.”

“Seriously? Not one Monday, ever, have you cracked your eyelids open and beaten the stuffing out of your pillow?”

“Couldn’t,” Steve sat up. “From the age of seventeen ‘til last year… it just wasn’t an option. I’d have paid for it physically in training, and could have let my team down when I was active duty, so…”

“Yeah, well, I get it and I’m not dismissing that but…believe me, buddy, in the civilian world Monday is a legitimate excuse for a heavy dose of ‘leave me the hell alone.’”

Danny kept filling out the report he was half done, hoping Steve would get up and go. 

He braved a look to his right and saw Steve giving him the full-on puppy eyes.

“Oh my God, have you no shame? Stop that.”

“I know it’s not about Monday, Danny; you were laughing with Kono, then with Chin. So why am I getting the ‘let’s just do our jobs’ treatment?”

Now it was Danny slumping, trying to think of a way to hint around this gently.

“Okay. You wanna do this? How was your weekend, Steven?”

“How was my… it was fine. Told you at lunch about the 10k race on Sunday. Saturday I did yard work and I…”

“Friday. How was your Friday night? What did you…”

“I played cards,” Steve blurted it, but not casually – almost annoyed, already, even though his face said he was only partially sure where Danny might be going. “With some friends. We played Texas hold ‘em and then we played five card draw once we’d had a few and didn’t want to think too hard. Why?”

“And that’s all you did … cards and then home to crash and…”

“Yeah, that’s all. Why?”

“I had it in my head… that you went back to the club.”

“Where the murder was? Why would I go back to….”

“You were eye-banging him, that’s why; the surfer boy with the professional exhibitionist tendencies. The two of you were…”

“He’s a witness,” Steve cut in, sitting up taller, voice hard. “In a murder case, Danny. I was not…I _would_ not…”

“Oh, c’mon… you gave him the deep, lingering stare and he… did that thing with the card, that playing hard to get thing and then you, you… held onto the card and…” Danny looked at Steve but had to look away; something about the incredulous anger in those eyes and how weak his own argument was sounding. “….I know what I saw.”

“The guy was in shock when I started questioning him,” Steve sounded like he was working hard at reining his anger in. “I told you that. So yeah, I put some extra effort into connecting with him – I spoke slowly, I looked him in the eye. But I did not do it with any… incorrect intent and there was nothing coming back at me from him, either. Nothing, Danny.”

“If you saw him in six months, once the case is over, would you…”

“No!” Steve was up, tossing as much as setting the chair back against the wall of Danny’s office and standing over him. “I wouldn’t. You know why? Because he’s too perfect and pretty and…maybe an extremely nice guy but so very…I don't know, so very not real. Not my type. But Danny…why the hell would you care?”

That would be the question, wouldn’t it?

“I… don’t.” Danny said, mostly because it seemed like the only response that might defuse things right here and now.

It seemed to work – Steve went from looking like he was on the verge of shouting at him to looking…deflated. Weary. 

“Look, just because I don’t talk about what I’m up to or who I’m up to it with doesn’t mean I’m embarrassed or ashamed of my actions, so don't judge me."

"I'm not, I'm seriously not jud..." Danny tried, but Steve wasn't having it, was talking right over him.

"I don’t get into it…because I don’t want to. So here’s what we’re going to do – we’re going back to before the other week when you caught me messing around on the beach…and we’re never going to talk about our personal lives again. Unless, that is, you have a formal complaint to lodge against me and then you can take it up with the governor. Got it?”

He couldn’t have said it any more calmly. It couldn’t have felt any more like a bomb had gone off.

“Got it,” Danny said, and then watched Steve walk out of his office.

It felt like the wall the three of them had spent almost a year chipping away at, the protective Great Wall of Steve, had gone right back up in a minute flat. 

“In my defense,” Danny said to no one, so he knew he must have been saying it to himself. “I was trying to let it go.”


	6. Catawampus

They managed to have a laugh together the next day. More than a chuckle, too; a full-out belly laugh, tears streaming, barely able to walk.

“Yeah,” the suspect they’d just cuffed wasn’t exactly in the same mental space as them. “It’s frigging hilarious.”

It was, though; chasing the guy on foot up Kalakaua Avenue and then into and over San Souci beach, diving to take him out cleanly at the ankles but missing and somehow landing in a pained, messy pile of arms and legs. They fell very awry and groaning, limbs sticking out at seven different angles and faces full of sand.

It might have been their most ungraceful moment yet. But at least they waited until they had him cuffed and were marching him to the street to start really losing it.

“Ha, ha… _freaking_ ha…” the guy muttered and Danny actually had to sit down on one of the benches on the street to catch his breath.

It didn’t mean Monday was one hundred percent behind them, but… it was good. 

~*~

“Hey.” Steve stood in the doorway of his poker buddy’s extended-stay vacation place hours later; the one Jason always rented on his quarterly visits back to Oahu from where he was stationed in California now.

“Hi,” He waved Steve in, stepping aside and flipping the door shut behind him. “Sorry about Friday; when you called, I had no idea Ben and those guys would show up ten minutes later looking for a game. I thought they were headed to Maui for the weekend.”

“It’s okay,” Steve got a finger in one of Jason’s belt loops and pulled him in a step. “Can, uh… can we…pick back up where we were? Friday night?”

Jason was a good head shorter; nicely built; compact, a wide chest sweetly fuzzy with gold hair under his tight shirt, a narrow waist, the ass cheek in a pair of tight grey trousers warm and hard under Steve’s left hand, now. 

“Look, I know this is a drive-by screw for you,” Jason never hesitated to get to the point. “but could you at least… pretend? Have half a drink first, act like you’re glad to see me?”

“Sorry,” Steve’s other hand ran up his back, cupped his neck, fingers drifting up to run through his soft, not quite long blond hair as he pulled him in to kiss him. “I never … I …never have… pretended. Right? That I want more than…”

“No. I’ll give you that. You never have.”

Steve makes sure to find Jason whenever he’s in town. Not because Jason adores cock and sucking it, and not because going to bed with him is a sweet, rough wrestling match he'll feel for a couple of days; it’s more about ….something in his stance, in his sharp blue eyes that miss nothing and his smart ass grin.

And it's as good as it always is: Steve’s never sure which of them will top any given time, and this night it’s only when his arms are burning and legs are giving out that he knows it won’t be him. Steve hears the whine escaping his own throat, full of ‘need this…’ and he gives in and slides onto his belly.

The sound that gets out of Jason- pure victory- as he gets up over Steve and pins him with his knees sends him out of his head a little bit, that floating ‘about to get fucked’ adrenaline buzz starting. By the time he comes, face in the pillow, ass stuffed full and aching so good, a strong hand stroking him off, he’s… who knows where? Gone.

No worries. Not thinking about anything or anyone else. Not at all.

“When we were overseas,” Jason notes as Steve’s heading for the shower, “you could kind of take me or leave me. Lately… can’t help noticing whenever I’m in town I’m a hell of a lot more in demand.”

“Want me to be more scarce?”

“It wasn’t a complaint, McGarrett. It was an observation.”

~*~

Wednesday was pretty average; no chases, some desk time, some driving around to re-interview witnesses on a stalled case. All four of them have lunch at the place they like to go to lately for hump day.

So Danny is surprised at himself when he sees it, and it makes him freeze inside and out: There’s a purple and black splotch on Steve’s neck – mostly under his button-down, one side peeking out from under the collar. The sight gives him a stab of _‘oh, crap, here we go’_ followed by a kind of angry burn that runs right from Danny’s throat to his toes.

It’ll turn yellow-green and go spotty and fade but… right now the bite mark on Steve is fresh, last night fresh. And it’s so very in his face – half covered or not.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Danny realizes he’s gone silent, has lost track of what Steve is saying to him from the driver’s seat. 

“Nothing. Sorry, I… got it stuck in my head that maybe I left the coffee pot on at my place this morning. But I didn’t. I’m sure. I didn’t.”

“You should get one of those new ones,” Steve turns onto the highway, but he’s watching Danny a bit as he does. “…they turn off automatically after a while. You know?”

Danny nods, and pretends to play with a hangnail.

Out of the corner of his eye he see Steve adjusting his collar. Hiding that damn thing some more.

He’s not even sure the gesture was a conscious one on Steve’s part but… damn. 

Just damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

Shit.

~*~

It’s happy hour at the club four hours later. No strippers of either variety – only people sipping and laughing and enjoying the patio and the darts and pool table. 

“You’re Detective Williams, right?” 

The voice on Danny’s left is vaguely familiar, but he is a couple of martinis into his own personal Very Unhappy Hour, so… it doesn’t quite come to him. He’s already decided to have three, maybe four more drinks then call a cab and go collapse into bed but…

“Your team was really kind. The other day. When you were asking about what I saw.”

It’s the surfer dude stripper himself, here on his night off, apparently, in slacks and a different cashmere V neck so they must be his thing, his uniform. For a second Danny has an unworthy urge to say something snide, call him Ken when he knows it’s really Michael.

But the guy looks wounded by what he went through, still, and… really grateful.

He’s pulling a barstool up next to Danny’s, waving to the bartender for whatever it is the bartender already knows is his usual. The way he does it, the way he slides onto the thing; It’s impossible not to notice how freaking tall and sleek and muscled and gorgeous he is. 

He even smells gorgeous. 

“No worries,” Danny hears how it comes out – how cold and resigned he sounds. “Just doing our jobs.”

“Even so…. if I can get you the next drink, maybe?”

“Sure,” Danny softens his tone; it’s a nice club, and the drinks are not cheap. It’s a thoughtful gesture so why be a hard ass for no reason? “That’d be great. Do you prefer Michael, or Mike?”

He looks pleased Danny remembered.

“Mike. Should I keep calling you Detective Williams? Or …”

“Danny.”

“I … noticed you, Danny.”

“What? That day? What do you mean by you noticed…”

“No – I’ve noticed you other days. Other nights. When I’m working in the main room sometimes I see you over here at the bar. You never come in to watch the show up close.”

“I’m not the ‘tuck a dollar in the g-string’ kind of guy.”

“I can tell. Nothing against those who are, ‘cause they help pay my rent. But …I like that. You seem… I don’t know. Like you know who you are. I’ve wanted to say hello, but…I wasn’t sure if you….”

Danny keys in on the guy’s face somewhere around ‘I don’t know’ and yeah, maybe he’s too picture perfect, not so very …real. But he’s sweet and unguarded, simple and…so open. 

Everything Steve McGarrett will never, ever be.


	7. Hornswoggle

Danny liked to switch up the ringtones on his phone on a regular basis, so everyone on his speed dial got a new one every few weeks depending on his mood. Everyone except Grace, of course, who would absolutely be assigned ‘Isn’t she Lovely’ until the day he died or ringtones were rendered unnecessary in some far off future.

Right now, his ringtone for Steve was a long, drawn out sound of maniacal laughter of the ‘he’s driving me crazy’ nature, the sound of a human being absolutely losing his shit. 

Which is what Danny woke up to.

“What?” He had the phone to his ear before he was fully awake.

“Danny? Where are you? I’m waiting outside.”

“You’re…what? Why? It’s … six a.m. It’s 6:05 a.m.”

“No… it’s 8:05 a.m. and I’m picking you up for work so…where the hell are you?”

Oh crap. 

Yesterday, before the hickey sighting, back when things were going well and they were having a laugh he’d agreed to have Steve swing by and drive him in to work. 

That frigging love bite had caused him a whole range of issues in a few short hours.

“I’m sorry, I…. kind of forgot. Don’t worry about it, I’ll… oh, geez…”

He’d been about to say he’d make his own way in, but then he remembered: Mike only had the one drink while he’d had three, so Mike had driven them to Mike’s apartment. Which meant Danny’s car was back at….the club.

Steve was chuckling into his ear via cellular in a way that said he’d sussed it out right along with him - that wherever he may be, he was car-less at the moment. Steve also had obviously sussed out why.

“Listen, no worries – give me the address, I’ll swing by and get you. No sense calling a cab and wasting time and money and…”

“No, Steve, listen, it’s fine… I’ll…”

“C’mon… don’t be that way. Please? Let me?”

The little crack in that voice; it was precisely why Danny’d assigned that ringtone to him the other week. That needy …difficult…clueless, unobtainable…man was driving him fucking nuts. 

Was driving him nuts even when he had a beautiful, snoring guy lying next to him, sprawled, back down and arms flung; Mike, who had not stirred a bit at the phone or the conversation and who was very unlikely to suddenly wake up and drive him to work. 

Made sense, really, that strippers would be nighthawks.

“Fine. Got a pen for the address?”

“I don’t need a pen, D, just… tell me.”

Danny did, and then got up to hit the bathroom.

It hit him two steps in: His hangover. Only three drinks but…damn. No tonic in those martinis. No water or fruit juice or…

His head was pounding, his tongue made of glue. He showered and then did an index finger scrubbing of his mouth with the toothpaste Mike happily kept right on the sink, then he ‘stole’ some of his deodorant and shook out and stepped into last night’s clothes.

It had been a while since he’d done that. Damn…way more than a while. 

“Hey,” He sat on the edge of the bed and gave the still-deeply-snoozing Mike a shake. “Gotta head out, okay?”

Those eyes slid open; hazy, sapphire blue, smiling at him. Warm and kind and…

Danny got a flashback to a few hours ago: Mike under him, in him, twisting slow and pulling him down to him for a long, deep kiss. Not like he was some random fuck, much more…connected. 

Not what he’d expected, at all.

“Yeah. Call you later, Danny? Sorry I couldn’t get up and make you…”

“No worries,” He slid fingers through Mike’s hair and got up to go, watched him rolling over and pulling in pillows, already half out again. “Talk then.”

He had an unjust thought, on the way across the parking lot to Steve’s waiting car; in a way, sweet as he might be, Mike had hornswaggled him, had robbed him of the ‘right’ to feel superior to his partner.

Then he laughed at himself, said a silent ‘sorry’ to the man snoozing a few dozen yards behind him. 

Mike hadn’t robbed him of anything. He’d robbed himself. And maybe just robbed Mike, too.

~*~

Steve had figured it out. Somewhere between taking in the address and driving to the address, he’d obviously drawn a line in his head and connected it with their interview with Mike at the club the morning after the murder.

“What?” Danny said, in lieu of anything more productive to throw at him.

“What do you mean, what?”

“That’s a pretty sour look you’re giving me, babe. That’s a mouthful of lemon juice right there.”

“You accused me of…. Danny, you were furious with me. You went on about how it would be abusing my role to even look at him and then you….”

“Okay. Yeah. I get the irony. I do, I get it. But can we put it a-freaking-side for the day, at least until I ride out this headache and stomach ache and….”

It got quiet for a while, until….

“I didn’t know.”

Steve said it so quietly; Danny almost didn’t hear it to respond.

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you… uh… play both sides of the fence. Too.”

“Well we haven’t exactly sat down and had a conversation about it, have we? So how would you?”

“How often? Is it… rare or…”

“Ten percentish. Okay? Not that it’s your business but, that’s the answer. Why do you ask? Why do you _care_?”

“I thought you were maybe blocking me out of your life.”

“Excuse me?”

“I …haven’t been invited on any family stuff with you. Haven’t seen Grace in…forever. I thought maybe it was because….”

“Are you kidding me with this shit?”

The wounded look on Steve’s face said he was most definitely not kidding him with this shit. 

“Of course not. I would never…. she thinks you’re incredibly cool, God help her, and she loves spending time with you. So no, I would not do that to her, take away her Uncle Steve. I would not do that to _you_ and…can we please let this go? For a while? Can we do what you wanted the other day and go back and…”

“That’s all I was asking,” Steve cut it short. “Seriously. ‘Cause I can’t afford to lose you, Danny, and at this rate….”

“Yeah.” 

The rest of the ride in was in silence, mercifully.

~*~

“What?” Danny asked Kono.

She was looking across the computer table at him….just the two of them…her face… so …judgy.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing. You were giving me a look.”

“I don’t get it. You and Steve, you’re both so… amazing on the job. Your instincts as a detective….and yet….”

“And yet, what?”

“Well, no insult but …after hours? You’re a car wreck, both of you. Will you just talk to him?”

“Tried that,” Danny ran his hands over the table, pushing out old data and pulling up new. “It got worse.”

“Go figure,” Kono said.

“’Go figure?’ Where’d you get that? From me? That sounds like me.”

“You could try professional help,” she offered.

“We may need to.”


	8. Bumptious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things will start turning next chapter, I swear.... ;)

“After you.” Steve said.

He’d opened the HQ front door and started to walk out into the hallway, but so did Danny and they nearly collided.

“No, go ahead. Sorry. After you, Steve.”

They couldn’t see Chin and Kono right behind them, or the look of complete confusion Chin threw her as they headed out for their cars, too.

“What’s going on with them?” Chin muttered. “I feel like we’re watching a tea ceremony or something.”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I’m not sure,” Chin shook his head. “Can I think about it and get back to you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, nudged him. “…but think on it good because once you hear you can’t un-hear it.”

Steve and Danny hadn’t discussed yesterday morning’s hugely uncomfortable commute to work or the reasons for it. They both seemed to take it as understood that they were going to ride the whole thing out by simply pretending it never happened.

Which made less than zero percent sense to Kono and she’d told Danny so but….

“Want to drive?” Steve held the keys as if to throw them to Danny.

There was a pause, and then Danny held his hands up and cupped to catch them and Steve tossed.

“Letting him drive. No ribbing in return, no nothing? Oh, wow…” Chin said under his breath as he and Kono headed for their car. “It’s bad isn’t it?”

“It’s not good.”

~*~

The drummer for the boy band was ….a freak. Danny decided there was no nicer way to say it: Rude, brash, in everybody’s face to the point of bumptious. And acting like he was great fun, wasn’t he?

“I don’t get why we had to be stuck with running security for them? Or why they even need to be here for the setup?” 

Danny asked it rhetorically as much as at Steve. They were walking the backstage area, looking for logistical concerns while Chin and Kono scoped out the seating area for the same.

“They’re …VIPs. I guess. And this is their job, being rock stars…” Steve nodded vaguely toward where the drummer was ‘in character’ for some of the local media; leaning over the women suggestively, play- fighting with the guys. “One of them, his dad is a high government official overseas so…they get the A-plus security wherever they go.”

“I guess there’s comfort in us being considered the A-team.” 

Danny watched the drummer making faces for the camera. Apparently, they were meant to be sexy but to Danny it was just...nonsense. 

“It's like he’s been sucking lemons.”

“I think it ends up looking different in the photo…” Steve said. 

“It must.”

~*~

It took way more time and effort to check out a ten thousand seat concert hall from top to bottom than any of them anticipated. 

Danny was dusty, sweaty and beat up before it was over. He’d just climbed down from the rafters where he caught it; The not-so-little drummer boy standing fifteen feet away, hanging all over Steve. He was dragging a finger over the tattoos on Steve’s right arm. 

Steve, for his part, was trying but failing to look detached - was obviously answering stupid ass questions about the design.

The kid had the hand that wasn’t tracing the tat firmly on Steve’s other shoulder. That was bad enough but then the thumb of said hand started tracing slow circles on Steve’s skin and….

“He’s harmless,” A voice said, just as Danny was ready to charge over there and Danny looked at the source: Tall guy, handsome, sandy hair, built - but in a fit, ‘captain of the track team’ way. Band manager, Danny remembered. “Dylan’s excitable but… he knows better. He’s not gonna make a play on your boyfriend.”

“He’s….” Danny watched Steve continue to not stop Dylan from touching him. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Really?” The manager kept making notes on his clipboard, but glanced from Danny to Steve and back. “Woulda sword I picked up a ton of ‘he’s mine’ vibes coming off you two this afternoon.”

“Yeah, well, we’re protective. We’re partners.”

The guy nodded and left, and Danny was glad for him- for someone stopping him before he went rolling in and made a scene. 

He knew one thing, though, watching Steve and that kid still in cahoots: The way this hurt? It wasn’t concern for his co-worker or judgment about his lifestyle. It was straight-out, jealous want. 

And Steve didn’t want him back.

~*~

“Mike, where are you? We were meeting at 7:30, right?”

“Yes, I’m so sorry. I know it’s my night off but someone called in sick, so… I’m at the club. I tried to call you but…”

“Our phones were spotty. Climbing around an old building, you know? No worries, we’ll make it another night.”

“You could come here, Danny. I’ve got a break at 8:30, we could have something brought to us in the break room.”

“Yeah? They won’t mind?”

“Of course not. And I’d like to see you.”

Danny felt bad, going to him under what might be false pretenses. But it was a relief not to spend this long night after an unsettling day alone. 

“You got it. Be there soon.”

~*~

It was a little weird, dating a stripper; wandering around the back patio of the club, watching guys hang out, laughing, talking, a few making out in the darkening corners.

It was better standing out here than watching Mike strip for other people, which would take some getting used to. And at least none of the patrons were going at it really hot and heavy yet.

“Woah…” Danny murmured as two men practically flew past him, headed for the back corner, clearly in deep heat.

He’d jinxed it, and was getting an eyeful in the deepening twilight; one of the guys had the other pinned to the wall, was grinding against him as if they’d started this in the car, which was extremely likely. The other guy had his hands in his partner’s hair, tugging it around as he kissed and bit and mauled him back. 

It was way too intense for 8:00 p.m. It was… hot. Okay, yeah. It was hot.

It was…. Steve.

“Son of a….”

He felt like he was living his nightmare of the other week, which technically, he was; the sounds Steve was making, the sight of them practically tearing each other up -- it was too much. Danny was charging over before he even realized it.

“Going for teenagers now? Seriously? What the hell are you thinking?” 

His words were uncontrolled, were entirely for Steve, but his hands were on the kid, pulling Dylan away until…

“Hands to yourself, mate,” The band’s manager. Not Dylan. Not a kid. “He’s not your boyfriend, huh?”

“I’m… oh. I’m sorry. I …thought…”

Danny’s hands were up in ‘I surrender’ mode but the guy only dusted himself off and backed away, shrugging, both he and Steve still panting.

“I don’t need trouble with anyone. Not worth it. Right? Plus, I think you two have some talking to do.”

It got so quiet – the other bar patrons had pretty much abandoned the patio and it was just him and Steve. Steve, who had barely moved, was leaning against the wall straightening himself up, thumb running over a raw lower lip.

His eyes, though, were furious.

“I thought Mike had the night off. Thought you two were going out?”

“He …lost his night off. Someone phoned in sick.”

“I won’t come here again,” Steve reached in his pocket, fishing for his keys. “Ever. Okay? But God dammit, I meant it the other day, Danny, what I said about staying out of my life. Tomorrow, we’re going to sit down and talk about exactly what that means, in specific, concrete terms okay?”

“No,” Danny said it softly, and Steve, who had started walking toward the club, stopped. “We won’t have to talk about it. I’ll look into a transfer. I’ll see what they’ve got at HPD. I’ll let you know, so you can talk to the governor about hiring someone new.”

Now he was the one walking, headed for the break room inside to wait for Mike.

“Danny, what the hell?” He heard Steve, heard how his anger had melted, how deeply unhappy his voice sounded. “Why is it we were perfectly fine with each other for a year, and now….”

Danny waved an arm, like ‘why doesn’t matter’ and kept going.


	9. Quixotic

“Have you reached out to HPD yet?” Steve asked. 

He was already on his way out the HQ doors, just as Danny was walking in for the day. 

“No, I…”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re not going to. C’mon with me.”

“Is that an order?” Danny stood, still in the doorway, watching Steve walk down the hall toward the exit to the parking lot. 

“Yeah. It is.”

Steve was still his boss. Danny followed.

“Where are we off to?”

“We’re going to talk with the manager of that chain of jewelry stores that keeps getting hit. I need your detective ear, I’m starting to think he’s involved.”

~*~

“So… why, in your demented brain, do you think I can be convinced not to call around about a new gig?” 

Danny waited until Steve had merged into traffic to ask it. 

“Because it’s a lose, lose Danny. It was impulsive of you to say that last night. Really…very rash. And not like you.”

“More like you.”

“If that makes you feel better, fine. Thing is, if you leave our team loses. It’s not good for you, either, career-wise. And even though we see each other less… it’s a small island. We’ll still, technically, work together.”

“Tell me: What are we going to do, then, apparent master of my fate?”

“We’re gonna cut the drama,” Steve visibly fought back an eye roll and signaled for the exit. “It’s Friday, right? We’re going to take the weekend to calm down, and on Monday you’re going to sit with me and a mediator – Chin, Kono, Max, the governor, Kamekona….I don’t care. And we’re going to talk about setting healthy personal and professional boundaries so we can work together in peace.”

There was a long pause during which no one said anything.

“Danny, are you refusing?”

“No. I’m cutting the drama. I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

“Well…. thank God for small fav…”

“You could try it, too.”

~*~

“Why do we need to stop at the bank?”

“ _We_ don’t need to stop at the bank,” Steve examined the paperwork in his hand. “ _I do_. And I told you it was fine if you waited in the car.”

“It’s hot. Even with the air on, it’s too hot today."

They were third in line for a teller, which was amazing to Danny because who ever actually went into a bank these days and talked to a teller?

They had been third in line for what felt like half an hour.

“Steve, tell me you’re doing more business than just making a simple deposit.”

“Did it only now dawn on you to ask if…”

“Yeah. Are you? Making a deposit?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a freaking ATM machine out there. It’s simple: You put the check in the slot, it takes a pretty picture of the check and…”

“I only trust ATMs for taking money out. Putting money in… I have no faith. I want to hand this to a human being.”

Danny watched the line inch forward funereally. 

“Oh. My. G….”

“Did you not hear it back in the car? My ‘no drama’ policy.”

“There are limits, McGarrett. And you're pushing them.”

~*~

“Kono, we’ve gotta roll...”

Chin was in the doorway of her office, face drawn and arms sliding into his bulletproof vest. He was going so fast, his hands were both reaching for his car keys and trying to fasten the vest all at once.

“What the hell’s going on?”

She was already pulling together her gear before Chin got to her, searching up the case with her rifle, too.

She’d been warned by both their cell phones going off at once, in time with the office phone and a flurry of incoming text messages. 

“Robbery. Chinatown. The bank near the diner. Three perps, and they’ve got eight hostages. Two shot, and it’s only been five minutes. It’s looking like it could get really messy.”

“Is HPD….”

“Swat team’s on site.”

“So why are they pinging us so urgently?”

They were out the door now, running toward the car. Chin didn’t even look back as he answered.

“Steve… Danny….”

“No…”

“Yeah. They’re in there. And they’ve been disarmed.”


	10. Forcible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah - I'm sorry it took a week to get this updated. :(. Life.....

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop it….” Danny fought to control his voice. “If you don’t step away from him now, I will see you dead.”

The guy Danny had dubbed Robber One of Three gave a disgusted grunt from inside the stocking cap mask covering his head, but he did – he stopped kicking Steve’s unconscious body and headed Danny’s way.

“You’re forgetting something, jackass,” He got in Danny’s face where Danny sat with the other hostages, by the most interior wall in a corner by the teller windows. “We’re the ones holding you. If anyone’s gonna….”

“Do not underestimate me,” Danny didn’t move a muscle when the guy got a fistful of Danny’s shirt, except to sneer up at him. “I’m telling you…if you touch him again….”

These were not highly professional thieves, Danny sensed. They thought ahead enough to wear the masks, and to pad their clothes to disguise their true weights and shapes. They spotted that he and Steve were cops, and made them slide their guns across the floor to them. But beyond that they were clueless as to tactical maneuvering - and they were brutal for no good reason; R1 of 3 had pulled a random man and woman out to abuse and threaten while R2of3 got on the phone with the cops and made their demands.

The minor infraction one of the other hostages committed –yelling for them to stop terrorizing the girl, to ‘have a heart’…. it sure didn’t merit him getting shot in the shin.

That’s when Steve had obviously decided this was going nowhere good; he had bolted, had gone for R3 of 3’s knees, taking him out, starting a skirmish with R2 and R3. 

The worst part? They’d almost had them; Steve got R2 pinned, took R2’s gun and had it pointed at R1 while Danny had R3 in a headlock. Unfortunately, two of the other customers decided a split second earlier that it was time to help out, too; they jumped into the fray, ignoring Danny and Steve’s shouts for them to stop. In trying to keep the civilians from getting hurt, they both lost control.

Danny heard two loud pops in between the thrown punches and screams of fear from behind them. When he could see which way was up again, the Good Samaritan customers were down and bruised; had their arms around their heads for protection as they were being pushed and kicked back against the wall.

“Steve,” Danny had scrambled to where he was lying, trying to keep him from suffering the same fate. “C’mon, sit up. Can you….”

Steve’s eyes were open but empty, glazed. Danny was confused why he was just lying there, looking at him, mouth moving but nothing coming out until he saw it: The bloom of blood spreading up his shirt and over his side, the stain crimson and sticky and growing so fast.

~*~

“They want what?” The HPD team leader asked his hostage negotiator.

“A doctor and a car. Apparently one of them got grazed pretty deep by a bullet to the arm in that mess just now,” the guy had the phone on mute, at his side as he relayed the information. “They want him stitched up. Then, they say they’ll take one hostage with them and let the rest go.”

“Tell them to let the rest go… and we’ll send in a medic.”

Kono and Chin were watching from a yard away, practically pacing with the frustration of knowing what had happened in there, that Steve was hurt, and how little they could do.

They watched the negotiator relay the demand, saw him shake his head at the reply over the phone. 

And that’s when it hit her.

“Wait….” Kono stepped up. “I’ve got an idea….”

~*~

“I’m sorry, Danny,” Steve said from the floor, voice strained, head on Danny’s lap now. 

“For what?”

Steve had been in and out of consciousness since he’d been shot. More out than in. He had an edge of a grin on his face, though, and the sight of that made the lump that had taken up residence in Danny’s throat swell again.

“Sorry I didn’t use the ATM.”

“Shut the fuck up,” R2 of 3 barked on his way by them, headed for the door to let in the doctor. 

“Son of a…..” Danny thought it, fortunately didn’t let it out of his mouth when he saw it… the doctor who had been sent in.

Max. Of all people. Looking as chill and ethereal as ever.

It couldn’t be any more of a clear, bright beacon: Max was going to be their way out, somehow.

But how?


	11. Frangible

It felt like swimming upward in the ocean, arms pulling hard for the sky and air. Steve gasped when he ran out of breath then realized – no water. All he was surfacing into was awareness.

Quiet room: Dark, a ticking clock, him in a bed with his shoulders and head elevated. Wires and monitors and tubes and....

Someone holding his hand.

Danny was asleep – sitting in an armless wooden chair, leaned forward, cheek and upper body on the mattress by Steve’s shoulder. Danny had made himself a pillow with his own left arm, his right hand wrapped loosely around Steve’s left. 

Steve let his eyes fall closed again and remembered…

_He’d been dizzy from pain and blood loss by the time he saw Max in the bank with them. It looked cartoonish; everything moving slow, fast, jumpy. Shit…he was really losing it._

_“I need help steadying you,” Max said. The robber wasn’t taking stitches to his wounded flesh well._

_“I’ll do it,” Danny, sitting on the floor, holding Steve, a hand in his hair. “If you don’t shoot me when I get up, I’ll come over there and help.”_

_“Why the hell would you? You’re only looking to….”_

_“Why? Because the man bleeding out in my lap -- I’m in love with him. So if it’ll get you the hell out of here and get him help…yeah, I’ll do it.”_

_He remembered Danny setting him gently on the floor, remembered going under again - and wondering if he’d live to see what would happen.  
_

~*~

Danny felt like he woke suddenly, but Steve must have been squeezing his hand a while. 

“You hurting?” Danny croaked, eyes meeting two that were bright and alert but pained. 

He was up and moving for the door when Steve nodded. He searched up a nurse, and then let Steve mash the bones in his hand together while waiting for the shot.

Danny felt Steve’s grip loosen almost immediately when the fresh meds went in, then watched on with relief as the nurse set up a self-dosing morphine pump. It was good knowing Steve wouldn’t have to ask for help – knowing how much he hated to.

“Always thought you were so tough,” Danny said once she’d left, pulling the chair back and sitting, giving Steve a little smile. “But a mere gunshot to the gut, eight or so kicks to the ribs and head and….who knew you were so easily breakable?”

It might have sounded odd to anyone but them, but Danny saw a corner of Steve’s mouth turn up as his eyes closed and he drifted back out.

_“You require a tetanus shot,” Max had told R1 of 3, staring blandly back when R1 looked furious, suspicious. “My work will be wasted if you die. I can’t have my work wasted.”_

_Max had locked eyes with Danny, though, as he pulled the syringe out of the medical kit._

_A surge of something went through Danny so hard he had to look down to hide it. That needle had no tetanus vaccine -- it was packed with Ketamine. Propofol, maybe. Or he wasn’t from New Jersey._

_He’d moved as innocently as possible as Max administered it, got as close to R2 of 3 as possible and then jumped up, head going directly into R2’s gut as R1 passed out. He made sure to grab R2’s gun as he did, as R2 fell, fighting for air._

_R3? There was a reason he was left back to guard the terrified hostages; he was zero threat, had already fallen to his knees and slid his gun across the floor when Danny spun toward him.  
_

“R1 and 2 would have killed us all, babe,” Danny said to a now-deeply-out Steve. “They did kill all the hostages in three prior robberies in other states. They… were psychotic bad.”

And the little fuck who hired them? When they’d pulled the mask off his head, Danny recognized the son of the jewelry storeowner they’d been going to re-interview. He’d gotten sick of ripping off dad, apparently – he'd gotten greedy.

“Thank God for our Ohana,” Danny said, taking Steve’s hand again. “For every one of them....”

~*~

Next time he surfaced, Steve could feel he was turning a corner. He still hurt enough that he didn’t dare run a hand over the bandages under his right ribcage for fear of the jolt he’d get. But he didn’t feel like the lights were about to go out.

Danny had obviously come and gone and returned; was standing by the window in freshly pressed slacks and shirt, coffee in his hand, grinning a crooked grin at him.

“How long have I been….”

“Almost three days. In and out. Looks like you’re really here this time?”

“Yeah. How bad….”

“Your doc will have to get specific. All I know is there was no major organ damage, but they did have to do some renovating inside your abdomen. I’m told that’s why you were out so long; deep gut surgery apparently gives the human body the Sleeping Beauties or something.”

“You should go, you don’t need to…”

“I _am_ going to go,” Danny’s voice got that little notch tighter. “I’m heading in to work. But I wanted to see you first, see that you’re really gaining ground so I can tell everyone….”

“What you said to them, in the bank….” Steve saw Danny stand taller, eyes going as dark as his voice had gone tight, as if he couldn’t believe Steve went _right there_. “You didn’t mean it. Did you?”

“Of course I meant it. But we’re not talking about it here. Not today.”

“Why not?”

“Because, my friend, you are so full of brain-altering chemicals that you’re not considered legally competent to sign a check or a contract or even… _vote_ for cripes sake. Let alone talk about who loves who or…doesn’t.”

“I can’t do it, Danny,” Steve said over the objection, over Danny walking toward him looking like a thundercloud now. “Today or ever. Even stone cold sober, I can’t…. _belong_ to anyone. I never have. That’s why I only…..”

“Stop,” Danny said it with enough authority to get his attention, but enough warmth to make it not a bark or a shout. “I mean it. Not today. When you’re better and home… we will so talk about it. Right now I’m going to work, to make sure your unit does Hawaii proud. Okay, commander?”

“Yeah,” Steve watched him walking away. “Thank you, Danny. Hey….Mike – he’s a really good guy. Isn’t he? He seems it.”

“You know, he really is…” 

Danny walked back part way, saying it calmly, as if they were having some entirely other conversation which they so were not.

“He’s much more than I gave him credit for when we met him….in just about every way.”

Steve watched Danny shrug and turn to leave again.

“There’s only one big problem with him,” Danny said, not looking back. “He’s not you.”


	12. Dictum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know... I'm sorry re: where I stopped this. :| But the muses insisted. I swear the next chapter is it!

They gave Steve the most low-key, no stress first-day-home possible; just the four of them, Chin already manning the grill and Kono pulling iced glasses out of the fridge right as Danny walked Steve in his own front door. 

“Welcome home, boss,” Kono handed him a beer but held it an extra second. “You can have that, right? With your meds?”

“One or two won’t kill me. I tapered down the pain stuff so I can enjoy this.”

“I’ll bet it’ll taste extra good.”

“You have no idea.”

After ten days in the hospital, he was visibly happy to be here, but tired. And, Danny couldn’t help noticing, he was gazing around the living room once Kono headed for the back yard and things got quiet. The expression on his face? He might be projecting, but Steve looked like a man realizing he’d be alone in a few hours and not at all happy about it.

“Where you going?” Steve asked when Danny walked by him and toward the door.

“Forgot something in my car.”

~*~

Steve was out back, too, by the time Danny returned. Because it wasn’t your average Sunday, they grilled kabobs with veggies and cubes cut from three thick, aged steaks. And Kono brought a mango cheesecake for dessert that just about did them in.

“Seriously guys….” She’d grinned and forked her last bite. “I’m glad you like it but those sounds? They’re obscene.”

“Well that’s appropriate,” Danny shrugged. “’Cause this cheesecake is so fucking good.”

~*~ 

“You coming back to the office tomorrow?” Chin asked Steve as Danny gathered up their empty plates. 

They’d talked about everything else- had filled him in on business, what they’d been up to. And they didn’t want to push, but….

“Half-days at first. Desk-duty only. But, yeah,” he said, smiling when Chin flinched, knowing how much he’d hate desk duty. “It’s better than nothing. And honestly? It’s all I’ve got in me. This…. kind of sucked the air out of my sails. Made me think. About a lot of things.”

Kono was on her feet by the word ‘about,’ was crouching down by Steve’s chair, reaching in to give him a big, long hug.

“Get a room!” Danny ribbed.

They all laughed, but he noticed Steve giving him an inquiring look, a faint pink growing over Steve’s cheekbones when Danny shot him a wink on the way by.

~*~

“What’s that?” Steve asked as Danny picked something up from near the couch.

Kono and Chin had left around 5:00pm, to give Steve some time to himself to unwind.

“It’s a day bag,” Danny said. “My clothes for tomorrow. Shaving kit. Toothbrush. I’m staying, in case all that didn’t clue you in.”

“That’s…thoughtful. But I can get around. You don’t have to…”

“I know what I do and don’t have to do,” Danny walked by him toward the stairs. 

“Where are you going?”

“To put this in your room.”

“Uh… what?”

“Oh, did you think I was staying on the couch? I’m staying …as in next to you.”

“Danny, I…”

“Look, you only had the one beer at dinner. You can have one more, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“No ‘buts.’ Grab one for us each, and I’ll meet you at the chairs. ‘Cause babe… I’ve been doing some thinking, too. And it’s time for us to talk.”


	13. Malleable

“I wasn’t judging you. I swear,” Danny said. “The last couple weeks? I was pea-green, _screw-my-life_ envious.”

He was pacing. A yard away, Steve sat on the very edge of ‘his’ chair on the beach looking uncomfortable, looking like this kind of thing was exactly why he’d successfully avoided relationships in the first place.

“I wanted to say something, but you got so… _angry_ with me. That ‘stay out of my private life’ rant? Twice? That was not fun.”

He took a swig of his beer to buy time and think it through before he went on. 

“I’m still gun shy after…you know. Rachel and that really specific, ugly corner of Divorce Hell I hope I never see again. But I want to try, I want you to admit we need to try because I meant what I said in the bank. I love you.”

“Since when?” Steve asked, eyes down, voice sounding like he’d been waiting to ask again since the day he’d woken up in the hospital.

“Eight months ago. That’s when I realized it, at least. I was in my office when you walked into work one day. I heard your voice by the coffee pot, talking with Chin and that was it; my heart fell into my shoes. I kept pushing it back, though, pretty successfully. Until I saw you and that…girl. And then you and freaking…everybody.”

Danny watched him slide from the chair to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, but the grimace on his face, the way he was covering the spot where he’d been shot with a hand suggested otherwise. “The sand is more forgiving than the chair. Why didn’t you say something to me?”

“I knew you’d push me away. And damn if you didn’t.”

“When did I push you away, Danny? Because if I did that, I think I’d remember.”

“Aside from telling me to mind my business? How about in the car when you picked me up at Mike’s. I told you my history, and it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t say a thing.”

“One in ten, men to women. That’s what you told me,” Steve looked like he was thinking of getting up, then sank back. “Why would I assume _I’d_ make the cut with odds like….”

“Why the hell _wouldn’t_ you make the cut?”

“Because you call me a maniac. Crazy. An animal. You’ve even told me you hate me…”

“Deflection,” Danny cut in. “Self-protection. And also it’s true, except the hate part."

“Mike,” Steve ignored the jab, something like jealousy washing over his face, making Danny’s heart jump in that familiar way again. “What about Mike?”

“He broke it off the day after the robbery. He saw how messed up I was over you and…well, he said to say he wishes us the best.”

Steve made a sound so hopeless that Danny stopped pacing.

“Us,” Steve said. “I’ve never been an ‘us.’ I’ve tried, but it felt phony.”

“It only has to work out once. What if you and I are _supposed_ to work out?”

“What if we don’t?” Steve’s tone got firmer, like he’d found his argument and he was going to stick with it. “I can’t chance it, maybe losing you in a month or a year all because…. _c’mon_ , D, you need to understand…”

“Yeah. I understand. You love me too, but you’re putting me in a convenient, safe box.”

“Stop it…” 

He did get up then, pressing hard with his arms, flinching. Danny was torn between running over to help him or marching over and getting in his face. He went with the later.

“Gonna close the flap, stamp it ‘buddy’ and expect me to be okay with that?”

“You _have_ to be okay with it.”

“Like hell, I do. Hey….woah…”

He reached as Steve took a half step back and stumbled. He looked like he might have fallen if Danny hadn’t gotten an arm around him.

“Maybe this isn’t the night for this after all,” Danny felt his anger dispersing at the sight. “You need the pain meds, don’t you? We should….”

He had further thoughts on the subject but they fled his brain when he looked up and saw Steve’s expression. There was misery, yes, from the physical healing going on. There was something else, too; the pain of wanting something he believed he couldn’t have. 

Danny knew the feeling. Yes he did.

“Hey, c’mon….” Danny said. “It’s all r….”

It was all he said for a while, because Steve leaned in to kiss him – once, twice, both fast but loose, open, the look on his face sliding from sad to determined as he took the initiative. Danny let him run it, arms finding their way around Steve, sinking into a third kiss that was deep and long and a little rough.

Steve’s arms went around him at the same time; strong and sure like he wasn’t focused on the hurt anymore. Like he didn’t have anything on his mind except learning how it felt to hold Danny, how he kissed back, how they fit together when he shifted, getting a leg between his. 

He felt hands on his ass, cupping, pulling him in, Steve rubbing them slow and teasingly light against each other.

“Hell, yeah,” Danny broke away to breathe it out. “More of that, okay? A lot more.”

He was the one who was in danger of losing his footing now. He put his head on Steve’s shoulder and held him for balance, let him keep touching and pressing. 

They were so close, he could feel both their heartbeats.

“I need…..” Steve murmured, still kissing him but slowing them to a stop.

“Yeah, babe? What do you need?”

“I need to change the bandage. On my wound. I think it’s bleeding through my shirt.”

“That… is without question the least sexy thing anyone has ever said after making out with me.” 

Steve nodded against him in reply, hugging him tighter, but he didn’t say a word.

It seemed like a good start. Very real, not even a little phony. He hoped Steve could feel the difference.

~*~

“Stay still,” Danny pressed at the tape all around the fresh bandage, but Steve’s skin was still too warm, his pores open from the shower. “It doesn’t want to stick.”

“I am staying still.”

“No, you’re not. You’re wriggling.”

He was sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed, Steve standing in front of him

“It’s your fingers….” Steve’s voice sounded amused and distracted. “…on my skin.”

Danny got that. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying all the touching; his hands on Steve’s abs, his back and Steve’s on Danny’s shoulders, thumbs reaching to make circles on his neck.

“Don’t be weak. Stand still a minute more and we'll be done.”

He was glad he’d thought ahead about staying the night. Steve had needed help just getting his shirt off because his range of motion with his arms was so limited. He’d taped some kitchen plastic wrap over Steve’s old bandage, and then leaned against the bathroom sink holding a towel, waiting and talking with him while Steve washed the day and the hospital away.

“There,” Danny sat back with the new bandage firmly affixed. “That should last you.”

“Thanks,” Steve tugged up on the waistband of the boxers he was wearing.

“Uh-uh. Stop right there,” Danny tugged them back down, even lower on his hip than they’d been before. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Steve’s dick had been showing signs of interest from the moment Danny got fingers on him. It was pitching a sweet tent now, and holy hell he wanted to lean in and kiss, lick through the fabric. 

“I … can’t. Wait. I don’t think I can return the favor tonight,” Steve said, but it didn’t stop him from stepping in closer, getting a hand in Danny’s hair. “Doesn’t seem fair, the first time.”

“Ask me if I give a damn?” Danny gave into it, reaching and running his mouth over him through the shorts, giving it several of the lightest of bites and presses with his tongue, loving it when Steve jumped and swallowed a surprised sound. “You want to lie down?”

Steve was around him and on the bed so fast, Danny barely had time to reach for pillows to bolster him. 

“Look at you,” Danny helped him lose the shorts, getting between Steve’s legs once he kicked them away, shaking his head at the sight; Steve’s feet planted, thighs unselfconsciously open to him, cock high and straight – every bit as long as he expected, but thicker, darker, the tip flared and pink, the vein running down the back calling out to his tongue. “Even your junk is good looking. It’s a damn shame, really, one person getting all that handsome.”

“Stop it,” Steve grinned up at him, looking away a little. “Take your clothes off?”

Danny did it quick, efficiently, then took the long way back down, kissing over Steve’s abs, lips rubbing over the fuzz from his belly-button southward. He heard him give a quick, soft hiss - half anticipation, half bracing – when he got close to taking him in his mouth.

“Probably going to hurt a little, around the wound? When you come?”

“Yeah,” he looked up to see Steve watching him intently. “It’ll be worth it. Wanted this so many times…you have no idea.”

Danny did his best to make _sure_ it was worth it – brought Steve sure and steady up the hill with deep, long sucks, did the work with his head so Steve didn’t have to push, fingers teasing Steve’s hole, the sensitive spot in front of it whenever he wasn’t giving him slow pumps.

It felt as right as Danny thought it would – what he didn’t expect was the sounds; Steve wasn’t stoic and silent in bed, was a huffing, sighing, groaning banquet of filthy sounds that had him stroking himself off, too, losing it before Steve, recovering just in time to swallow him in deep and enjoy that most important sound – Steve coming for him.

“Holy…crap, Danny,” he sounded like he was floating as Danny stole one of the pillows to join him. “So good. That was so…..”

“So not a buddy blow job,” Danny gave a little shove for emphasis as he settled in. “That's what it was. Not commitment free, not a bit. For the record.”

“I get it. I heard you downstairs. I just hope….I won’t screw it up. I’ll try not to.”

“It’s all anyone can do, babe. I’ll help you; it’s not my first rodeo.” 

He woke up somewhere in that grey-blue moment about twenty minutes before dawn, completely lost as to where he was. Then Danny lifted his head and remembered, at the same time he saw him: Steve flat out on his back, ‘good’ arm over his head, eyes shut and mouth loosely, barely open. 

He slid his pillow up by Steve’s closest shoulder and settled back in, on his side, balancing against him and….that was it. He knew, once Steve was better and could angle slightly toward him, once Danny could stretch an arm over him without nudging him where he hurt most…. this would be it – the way they would sleep.

And now he had another on a long list of reasons to be anxious for him to get better.

~*~

“There you are,” Danny walked down the lawn, toward the blanket in the sand with Steve on it. “Thought we were going out to celebrate you being back at work full-time?”

It had become a happy, memorable bubble of time, their first three weeks together. Not perfect: Sometimes he had to put in the work of prodding, pulling thoughts from him to understand what was going on in Steve’s head. But Danny was getting better access with each day; more of his trust, a better connection, Steve's mind and heart seemingly that little bit more malleable than the day before.

“Tomorrow,” Steve patted the empty other half of the blanket. “We can go out then. Tonight…I’ve got an idea…”

“I see that….” Danny said.

There was a hibachi fired up a few yards from them, a cooler next to it. Danny suspected the cooler of holding chicken or burgers, a plate full of veggies ready to grill, and some beers. Around the blanket there were at least a dozen candles in small glass jars – both practical in terms of keeping the bugs away and more beautiful by the second in the fading Aloha Friday sunset.

“This is a pretty sexy little setup you’ve got going…” he dropped down by Steve, leaning in for a quick kiss. “That on purpose?”

“What do you think?”

Steve didn’t verbally ask him to drop in for another kiss, but the way he nodded for him, stayed put where he was leaning back on his wrists and asked for Danny’s mouth with his eyes? That was pretty sexy, too.

“I think,” Danny complied, leaning back in. “I’m about to get laid on the beach, in front of God and the waves and probably one or two of your neighbors. Have you no shame?”

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that.”

He wanted to tell Steve he didn’t have to do this; didn’t have to make a big deal out of an average evening, didn’t have to look for chances to fuck around on the beach, on the lawn, in the kitchen, their cars, Steve’s office that Tuesday night when they’d worked late. 

But…. he thought as Steve stretched out and pulled him in ….it couldn’t hurt their odds, greasing the skids a little. 

Or a lot. A lot was good, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took me a week to finish this. I sometimes get really stuck with last chapters, and my Pr0n muse took a vacation, apparently, without notice. Sigh.... hope the end works.


End file.
